A Winter Epic in the Bonds

Many friends have heard of the '02 Three Bonds in a Day trip,
this is my attempt to document what happened and to try to
understand what could have been done differently. I have shown
drafts of this to the trip leaders, and believe that the Narrative
is factually correct. The Analysis is mine, I hope that I have
given the facts with enough detail to allow you, Gentle Reader, to
reach your own conclusions.

The Narrative

On Sat. Jan. 12 a group of eleven hikers started out on a trip
to the Bonds. The plan was to take the Wilderness, Bondcliff and
West Bond Spur trails to the summit of West Bond, and then decide
whether to return the same way or bushwhack down to the Franconia
Brook trail. All participants were physically fit, and all had
several years of winter hiking experience. The leaders and some of
the participants had previous experience with the bushwhack route
from the summit of West Bond to the Franconia Brook trail (in both
directions), both in winter and in other seasons.

The trip started auspiciously, with the Bondcliff trail
partially broken out up to treeline on Bondcliff. On the summit of
Bondcliff the wind was found to be blowing moderately from the SW.
Since it would be in our faces if we returned over the ridge, the
decision was made to do the bushwhack descent to avoid the wind, as
well as save about two miles and 900 feet of elevation gain. At
that stage three of the participants decided to turn around, they
reached the trailhead uneventfully at 6 PM.

The remainder of the group (now eight) continued over the col
and found deep unbroken snow on the south slope of Bond. Somewhat
less snow was found descending from Bond, and along the West Bond
spur. We reached the summit of West Bond around 3:30 PM (a bit
later than planned, but in any case we were prepared for a long
hike out with headlamps).

Once we left the trail to bushwhack along the ridge we found the
snow to be deep, unconsolidated, and with no crust. Progress was
slow along the ridge, and remained slow after we dropped off its
end, even though we were following a bearing which had led to an
easy descent on a previous winter attempt. After about five hours
we had only lost about 500 vertical feet, were still in dense
spruce, and appeared surrounded by spruce traps. At that stage the
decision was made to follow our footprints back to the Bondcliff
trail, and then decide whether to attempt to return to the
trailhead directly or to bivouac at the nearby Guyot shelter. It
took us about two and a half hours to return to the summit of West
Bond (around 11 PM), we continued down the trail and sat down for a
good rest and meal at the West Bond/Bond col.

During that meal we made an inventory of the available emergency
gear to help decide whether we should hike out or bivouac. We had a
tent body (Zdarsky equivalent), one sleeping bag, one bivy sack,
stove, pot, fuel and material for hot drinks, and a few sleeping
pads and tarps. All the group had a spare wicking layer (tops and
bottoms). About half the group had ample extra insulating layers
for an overnight, the rest were essentially wearing all they had
with them. The discussion on whether to bivouac or walk out
initially centered on whether we had enough gear to bivouac. As it
progressed it became clear that we did not want to bivouac. We all
felt that we could (reluctantly!) walk out, and there was little
joy at the prospect of a largely sleepless night huddled together
in the Zdarsky, to be followed by the 12 mile trek out. I believe
that, given the mild night, we probably had (barely) enough gear
for a bivouac, but we did not reach closure on that issue as a
group.

At that stage (around 11:30) the leader let participants use his
cell phone to call and reassure spouses, telling them that we would
be very late, but that all was well. He also called a friend in
Campton, NH, asking him to bring food and hot fluids and meet us
around the junction of the Wilderness and Bondcliff trails.

Further progress was slow (very slow!) but steady. We took our
time climbing over Bond, and were happy to find that the wind had
subsided when we reached the ridge. The climb up from the col to
Bondcliff was our last climb, it was painful but got done. Once
back in the trees below Bondcliff we stopped, lit the stove,
reheated all fluids to have hot drinks, and melted snow to refill
our bottles. The descent was slow but uneventful, we eventually
were met by our two friends just below the lowest brook crossing.
Both the hot drinks and the food were very welcome, and thus
refreshed we were able to complete the trip back to the trailhead.
The group split up on this final walk, the last two reaching the
trailhead at 8 AM on Sun., about 26 hours after starting.

The Analysis

Even though we emerged intact, it is clear that the trip did not
go as planned. So I think it is worth while attempting to find out
what went "wrong".

But first a few words about what went "right". The weather was
good, not too cold, not windy, and no precipitation until we were
almost out, when we got some flurries. All our gear functioned.
There were no snowshoe problems, and while some batteries and bulbs
died, they were replaced. We were all exhausted at the end, but we
were all able to hike for 24 hours or more. And our leaders saw to
it that we were adequately fed and hydrated throughout that long
night. As a result we all returned to the trailhead (the ultimate
objective of any trip) tired but none the worse for the wear.

The cell phone allowed us to reassure anxious spouses, and in
fact one had already called the State Police. She was able to call
them back to tell them we were safe, thus preventing a totally
unnecessary search and rescue effort. The Accidents Editor of
Appalachia wrote about a similar use of the cell phone:

In my opinion, this is perhaps the most thoroughly justifiable
use of a cell phone in the mountains.

In spite of the satisfactory outcome I have some questions about
the amount of clothing some of the participants brought, and about
the bushwhack.

Extra Clothing

I believe that, given the mild temperature that night, we could
have bivouaced with no hypothermia and no frostbite. To me that is
the definition of a successful winter bivouac, discomfort does not
really count.

The fact that we could (in my opinion) have bivouaced safely had
we needed to in no way excuses those who came on the trip
inadequately prepared. When leading a trip with experienced
participants one tends to assume that they will know, and respect,
the basics. Such assumptions are dangerous. Experience, in fact,
can lead to complacency, and I wonder how many participants on the
average winter hike do have a full set of extra insulation to wear
in case of an unplanned overnight.

This point is well addressed in Mountaineering, the Freedom
of the Hills, where there is a section entitled "Nonevent
Feedback" (p. 443 of 6th edition). I will quote the first few
sentences, the entire section is well worth reading (and
re-reading):

"You can be misled into accepting dangerous levels of risk by a
simple phenomenon that might be termed nonevent feedback: nothing
bad happened last time; therefore, nothing bad will happen this
time. Nonevent feedback occurs when we do not experience the
potential consequences of our actions. It can desensitize us to
hazard."

In four years of almost weekly hiking in winter this is the
first time I have had to even consider using the heavy fleece pants
and down jacket that I always carry. I have often thought of
leaving them out, fortunately I have resisted the temptation.
Others, alas, succumb to it. In trips that I lead I will now be
much more careful in emphasizing that this extra clothing is
absolutely mandatory.

The Bushwhack

Some questions have to be asked about the bushwhack:

Is bushwhacking down from West Bond in winter inherently
unreasonable?

I believe that it is almost the standard route for hard core
winter hikers. The rationalization is that it cuts off a couple of
miles and about 900 vertical feet, and so makes the trip
easier.

I do not believe that that is the real motivation of those who
do the bushwhack. If the bushwhack goes smoothly it may
indeed make the trip marginally easier, but if it does not go
smoothly it makes the trip harder, potentially immensely harder.
The risk/reward ratio is just wrong! I believe that the real reason
why the bushwhack route is used is the precise opposite. It takes a
very long but otherwise routine trip and adds an element of
uncertainty to it. It also requires skills that the average winter
peakbagger does not possess. All in all, a great way for the hard
core hikers to differentiate themselves from the run of the mill
peakbaggers .

While I believe that it makes the trip more uncertain, which
means riskier, enough people (including the Accidents Editor of
Appalachia) do it that I think we cannot describe the
original plan as unreasonable.

Given that bushwhacking is not inherently unreasonable, were
any avoidable mistakes made?

Were there any avoidable navigation errors?

No. At all times we were on the course we had selected, as
confirmed by the use of a GPS. We did not slavishly follow the
bearing, in fact we were constantly looking for better going, but
in the absence of a better path we followed our bearing pretty
consistently. To state the obvious, at no time were we by any
stretch of imagination "lost".

Bushwhacking is always an uncertain endeavor, and that is one of
its main attractions.

Should the plan have been changed when the snow was found to be
deep and unconsolidated on the West Bond ridge?

That would certainly have been the best time to change plans.
There is always a tendency to hope that "things will get better",
but if the snow is deep and unconsolidated at the start of a
bushwhack, there is little objective reason to expect conditions to
improve!

Assuming it made sense to start the bushwhack, should we have
turned around sooner?

By and large I am not in favor of rigid turnaround times, and
prefer to monitor the situation dynamically as it evolves. But the
situation here was different.

Dynamic monitoring works well on a normal up to the summit and
down trip. Thanks to the altimeter the group knows, at all times,
how far the objective (the summit) is. Estimating return time to
the trailhead is also easy, as it will normally be a relatively
short distance downhill on a broken out trail. So the leader needs
to monitor group strength, and can push fairly close to the group's
limits, given the ease of the return trip.

But this was a traverse, and we never knew how far our real
objective (good going) was. Furthermore, once we reached the good
going it would be much faster to go down than to go back up. So
there was a very strong motivation to keep going, hoping that we
would soon get out of the dense trees and deep snow. We probably
should have set a time for getting through the thick stuff
before starting the bushwhack, or as soon as we realized
that it was going to be a long and difficult
descent.

When all is said and done, what matters is that we emerged
safely. I, for one, am looking forwards to the '03 vintage Three
Bonds in a Day!